One & Only (4 page)

He laughed harshly. “Aye? ‘Tis
doubtful he shall. Why would he want to send ye away when he’d have to replace
ye?”

Bree’s chest tightened and a sudden
solemnest came to her. “My father cares for me, Rhys. He only keeps me here
because I am akin to a daughter.”

“Akin to a kitchen serf, I deem.
Aye, that is all ye be to them. You forget yourself, Bree. Be not a daughter
but a serf in their eyes. Your lady has never called you daughter and Melinda
has never called you sister.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. His words
hurt and she couldn’t hold back the tears. “You are the meanest, vilest
creature, Rhys. Dare ye insult me?”

“I speak the truth. Bree, ye be a
woman now and still ye cooks and slaves for them. Baron Champlain will not
allow you to take a husband. Not now, not ever. Best ye forget about it.”

“Well, ye shan’t take a wife
either.”

“I shall, when I earn my
apprenticeship and my lord gives me position. I will then have the means to
take a wife.” Rhys bumped her shoulder with his. “Bree, I apologize if I hurt
your feelings. I didn’t mean to.” He took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

She wiped her tears away. “I know
you didn’t. Do you really deem my father means to keep me as the cook forever?
Will I ever …”

“I’ll always be here with ye, Bree.”

“Someone comes.” Bree stood quickly
and hastily pulled her overdress over her head while Rhys began pulling on his
leggings and tunic. She turned away when his bulge stuck out, which she
couldn’t help noticing. The boy she’d played with no longer existed. One day
he’d want to use his manly parts and that day was fast approaching.

“Bree, where are ye?”

“Oh, ‘tis only Cait. Here, by the
water with Rhys,” she called. Bree continued to fasten the ties of her
overdress and slipped her feet into her worn shoes. “What goes? Have you come
to join us in the lake?”

Cait burst through the column of
trees and bent over, trying to catch her breath. When her breathing calmed she
shouted, “Baron and my lady return! Frederick rode ahead to warn us so we might
ready for their arrival. They are close. We must hurry.”

Bree’s heart sunk. She hadn’t had
much freedom. The Champlain’s had traveled to Berwickshire to attend the yearly
festival. For weeks, many would gather to participate in the events and to
trade goods. Berwickshire by the border drew clans from high and low regions.
Border barons attended in support of their crofters, selling the crops and
gaining funds. Bree never liked attending the festivals. There was always too
many people, too many tents, too many chores to be done.

And in this summer heat, she would
have been forced to stay beside the fire tending to the meals. She especially
disliked the smells from the festivals, all those people confined brought forth
rancid odors from pottage pots, and lord knew what else. The respite from the
Champlains hadn’t lasted long and she wondered why they had come home so soon.

Lady Champlain had insisted on going
so she could purchase spices for their suppers. Likely she had filled an entire
trunk with items for which Bree would concoct delicious meals. Her lady would
have it no other way. Lady Millie had taken her sister, Melinda, who was ten
years younger. Melinda had pled to go and Bree was thankful her lord relented
and allowed her to go. The household was quite calm for the few days they’d
been gone. Bree hoped they were well and had not come down with an illness.

“Why have they returned? They
must’ve only spent a few days at the festival.”

“I know not, but we best return ere
they come. Ye have a lot of work to do and I must make sure their chamber is
clean. Melinda is likely having fits from traveling. God save our ears.”

Bree laughed at Cait’s retort. Her
sister was famous for her temper and tantrums.

As they walked home, Bree considered
what she’d make to eat. Midday had only just past and a light fare would
suffice, and for supper she could make a stew of venison from the stag brought
down that morning. She was wont to sing a song to make their walk more
enjoyable and smiled when Cait and Rhys joined in. High tree canopies shaded
them from the blazing sun, yet she felt the heat on her cheeks and realized
she’d gotten a little burned.

Half an hour later, they approached
the field beyond the large manor home. Bree noticed dust from the carts and
horses in the distance.

“They come! Oh, we must hasten.”
Picking up her skirts, she made a dash for the back entrance of the manor. She
left Cait and Rhys behind and quickened her pace. Once inside, she stood by the
door, rasping for breath, knowing she would hear complaint from her lady. That
was the last thing she needed this day. It was far too hot to be bothered with
a lecture.

In the great room, voices rose and
Bree went to listen to determine if her parents were of a good nature. She
approached and stood at the opening of the room, watching as four large men
entered behind Baron Champlain. Her mother retreated to the upper floor with
Melinda who fussed the entire way about having to take a bath. She shouted and
cried, causing Bree’s ears to ring. Poor Cait awaited to attend them and would
have to contend with her sister’s whining.

The Scotsmen who followed farther
into the room, did not seem agreeable and had angst in their voices. Her father
looked uncomfortable, his face reddened.

“I expected ye much sooner. Yet no
word came. I did not anticipate to receive you after all these years. By God ye
have come.” Her father looked downcast, but he quickly averted his gaze. “I
cannot lose her, not my sweet girl. Not yet.”

The messenger, a strapping lad,
stepped forward. “I come from Laird MacHeth.”

Four others stood with the
messenger, each looking more fearsome than the next. They stood tall,
formidable, and had an obstinacy about them, given the glare from their dark
eyes.

Bree suspected all Highlanders bore
those traits since all she’d met held a similar appearance. Her father didn’t
seem to take insult at their demeanor. He waved a hand and bade him to hand
over the message.

“I have a direct missive from our
laird. I’m to repeat it word for word,” the messenger said.

“So speak you then and let us hear
this message.”

“Our laird instructed ye to ready
the lass. She’s to be sent with a contingent of your guard for her protection
to his lands. The time has come for the revolt. MacHeth said there will be
forfeiture if she is not delivered timely. She will wed in one month and then
ye shall ready your arms in support.”

Bree was surprised to hear his words
in English and had expected the heaviness of Gaelic brogue. Yet the man-at-arms
spoke English well. They didn’t appear to be of the border clans and wore the
attire of the northern regions. Long tartans reached their knees, and their
feet were covered by leather footwear constructed into boots. They wore tunics
covered by their clan’s plaid, with the colors to show who they belonged to.
Most had hair below the nape of their necks, except for the messenger who wore
his a bit longer.

“So it begins. I will send word to
my king. Who is she betrothed to?”

“’Tis no business of yours,
Champlain. No other words were conveyed. We will take our leave. MacHeth will
be awaiting.” The Highlanders left as vociferously as they came, whooping and
hollering as they made their way through the manor and courtyard.

Her father stood with his
man-at-arms. They spoke low and Bree snuck behind the buttery to listen. “I
feel most guilty for what I am about to do, Johnny. I didn’t realize then what
I agreed to. How can I send her away?”

Baron Thomas’ closest confidant
nodded.

“I should have refused the
Highlander, but then I had not been in such a power position.”

“Nay, my lord, ye didn’t have the
backing of the king and the prosperity of such a rich fief. If the revolt is a
success ye shall be in great favor with their new king.”

“It matters not to me who rules
Scotland, but being here by the border makes the issue a slight concern. She
was so small and needed our help then. I cannot negate the pact now, Johnny.
Though I wish with all my heart I could. My wife’s going to be inconsolable.”

Bree’s chest tightened as she
watched them closely, noting the forlorn look on their faces. She knew they
spoke of her, because she was the only child who had lived at the fief for many
years. They certainly weren’t discussing Melinda, who was still in her tender
years and unmarriageable yet. There was no time to ponder it now, her lord and
lady would be expecting refreshment from travel.

Retreating to the kitchens, she
began making a light fare of cheese and bread, and filled a tankard with ale.
She took the meal to her father’s chamber and used her foot to knock at the
door. Her father bid her entry with a shout and she used her hip open the door
wide enough to move inside. Bree set the tray on a table where her mother sat.
She waited for her lady’s command, knowing she would want something more.

“Bree, ye look bright. Were ye
outside this day?”

She curtseyed and smiled, trying to
be amiable. “Aye, I took a nice long walk early this morn. Can I get you
anything else, my lady? Shall I get you a cool cloth to ease the heat?”

“Is she not the most obedient,
dutiful child, Thomas?”

Her father turned from the window
casement and approached. “The most of any, Millie.” He had sadness in his eyes.
Bree had never once been reprimanded by him, and she maintained he cared for
her. Were he her true father, she would not have to worry about what was to
come. Yet he was the only father she’d ever known.

Bree turned to leave, but he stopped
her.

“A moment, Bree. Would that we speak
with you?”

“Aye, Father?” Bree’s stomach did a
flip, churning a nervous flutter in her belly. She wasn’t wont to hear what he
would say.

“Sit, pray, and listen, daughter.”
He motioned to her to sit in the chair next to his wife’s.

Bree sat on the edge of the seat and
waited. Her father paced with folded hands in front of him, eyeing the
floorboards. He didn’t speak for several seconds, making Bree take notice of
the silence in the chamber.

“Bree, ye do know you are not our
daughter in the sense that we bore you.”

“Aye, but you will always be mother
and father to me.” She spoke verily, because in truth, they were the only
parents she’d ever known. It mattered not to her since they had taken her in
and gave her a home.

“You came to us when you were so
young. I remember that day as if it happened yesterday. You are pure of heart.
Millie and I think of you as a daughter and always will. We would hope our
Melinda is as kind and true as you ere she comes of age.”

She couldn’t speak. Never had either
of them spoken such kindly words to her. A knot formed in Bree’s throat and she
averted her gaze from Lady Champlain, who most likely wept.

“I regret I’ve not made a worthy
match for you sooner, but such affairs have been settled. We shall miss you
fiercely.”

“Have I done something to displease
ye? You know that I—”

“Oh, nay, dearest, you could never
displease us. There’s been a request for your hand. ‘Tis a good match and it is
time you married.” Her father despaired and rubbed his forehead, a tell-tale
sign he was bothered.

“I’ve displeased ye. You mean to
send me away.” Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice grew thick with
emotion. She tried to compose herself by taking a deep breath.

Her father knelt next to her. “I
have never seen ye so distraught and it pains me. Nay, I wish we could keep you
here forever. But ye must go, Bree. You’ll be well protected.”

“Protected? I dislike hearing that
word, my lord. Who am I to marry?”

“You are called home to your family.
They have made the arrangement. We promised to keep you safe until they came
for you. The laird will tell you whom ye shall marry upon your arrival. He has
sent a messenger and requested the wedding be in one month. We shall prepare
for your departure.”

Bree began twisting her hands and
fidgeting, yet reason made her unemotional. “I know not of my family. Why do
they come for me now?”

“There were matters which concerned
them and for your protection, you were given to us for safekeeping. Now that
you have reached womanhood, they’ll want ye to marry someone of import, someone
within their clan.”

Bree sniffed back a cry. The mention
of her family brought mixed emotions. On one hand, she was nervous about
meeting them, and on the other, she found herself excited about the prospect of
knowing where she’d come from.

“I knew I’d marry eventually. I am
most pleased, my lord. Will you and my lady travel with me?”

“Nay, we cannot. I have many
important matters to see to here. You will be well, Bree, a married woman. You
won’t need us.”

“I shall be alone?” Her heart
crushed from the pain of his words. For as long as she could remember, she
disliked being alone and often felt as though she had no one. Bree wanted to
sink to her knees and beg him not to send her away, but she wouldn’t demean
herself in such a way. She had always thought she would marry a man who lived
close to her lord and lady, someone like Rhys. The thought of marrying someone
unknown worried her.